


A Taste of Southern Charm

by Enterthetadpole



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Boyfriends, Eventual Romance, Food, Humor, M/M, Slow Burn, no wives au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-09-30 16:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17227136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enterthetadpole/pseuds/Enterthetadpole
Summary: Rhett has built his southern fusion restaurant to be the best in Los Angeles. Sure his staff is frazzled and he's drinking a little more than is reasonable, but overall he is happy. At least as happy as he can be.Until a really picky food critic enters his life in more ways than one...Dedicated to Whatsastory, the other part of my Rhink loving heart. <3





	1. It sometimes pays to be charming.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whatsastory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatsastory/gifts).



"Rhett! We have a situation out here."

The tall man sighed. He barely had a chance to drink his first cup of coffee for the night, and it already started. Maybe if he just pretended that he didn't hear Chase at all, he wouldn't have to deal with -

"Rhett? I know that you can hear me."

With a groan that could rattle the small window of his cartoonishly small office, Rhett swiveled in his chair. The usual pain of his knees bumping into every single surface they came in contact with was redoubled, and he frowned at the small man staring at him from the doorway. The panic in his head server's eyes helped soften the sarcastic barb trying to escape his throat. Maybe the drama happening on the other side of the door wouldn't be too bad.

"What's up?" Rhett huffed. "Another server call out sick at the last minute? Tell me that isn't it. Lie to me like I need you to, please?"

The faintest eye roll, and then a small shake of the head helped relax Rhett's tense shoulders. At least it wasn't going to be another night of being short staffed at the height of the season. Even Stevie had to go out from the line to help with a few of the orders. Thankfully her sweet smile and ability to cook tableside for some of the more annoyed guests came in handy, though she looked like she was on the verge of quitting after the last time. Rhett gave her another raise and so many apologies she actually was worried about his mental health. 

It was a reasonable concern. 

"Nothing like that," Chase continued, giving a small glance back behind him again. "Someone overbooked and we have two groups about to invade the dining area. Said they have been waiting on their reservations for the past month. Lizzie is trying to keep them from camping out in the sitting area, but she's really outnumbered."

Rhett groaned as he stood up and banged his head on the drop ceiling of his office. Chase gave him a sympathetic look and lead him down the long hallway to where a large amount of voices were erupting. Lizzie was frazzled but somehow still trying her best not to scream as she tried to get the men and women to start stomping their way towards a few empty booths.

"Please...those booths are already spoken for," she squeaked, hands up in the air in the classic  _don't shoot the messenger_ pose. "If you all could please just take a seat in the waiting area, I'm sure that we can - "

"We're tired of waiting," hissed a older woman in an elegant floor length dark blue gown, "It's your establishment's fault that you can't count. Now, where is Chef Rhett? We demanded to see him over ten minutes ago?"

That seemed to be the best cue for Rhett to come out of the shadows. Being 6'7 always gave him the advantage and the curse of people stopping what they were doing or saying to stare at him when he entered the room. Tonight, it would be an advantage as even the most angry faces turned suddenly much happier when they saw him. 

"Chef Rhett," one of the men piped up throwing out a hand for him to shake. "This is an honor to meet you sir. My wife and I are thrilled to finally get the chance to dine at your amazing restaurant."

The man's handshake was sweaty with nerves, but Rhett happily took it. Then for an added assurance he placed his left hand on top and enveloped the man's hand completely. The woman in the dark blue dress giggled with excitement, and Rhett knew that this would be a fairly easy fix.

"Thank you so much for coming to _A Taste of Southern Charm_ ," Rhett replied. His smile was as warm and inviting as he could make it as he glanced at all of the excited faces around him. "I do apologize for the misunderstanding about your reservations. We will of course find seats for y'all. Just give us about five more minutes of your precious time, and your dessert is on me."

The sound of Lizzie's sigh of relief was drowned out by the happy chatters of the small crowd, and within the next few minutes the guests were seated in a small area in the back usually reserved for private parties. Chase smiled as he headed back towards the kitchen and Rhett jumped at the surprise hug he received. 

"Seriously, you can fix anything boss," Chase smirked. "We need to bottle up your conflict resolution skills."

"Fine by me," Rhett chuckled back, finally putting on his head chef jacket and hat. "Seems much less stressful than this life I chose. Should have just stayed in North Carolina serving food out of my food truck."

Chase rolled his eyes again, but this time it was much less subtle.

"You know that you'd miss the heck out of us," Chase smirked. 

"Maybe," Rhett grumbled. "But not the LA traffic."

Stevie's laugh off to the side was enough to get Rhett smiling again, and together they started getting the next set of orders onto plates. The smells of southern fusion was always enough to help Rhett remember that he loved cooking for people, and soon the steady pace carried him through the night until the last guest was served.

"Made it through another crazy day," Stevie cheered, and the rest of the kitchen crew applauded. Rhett took a small bow at the encouragement of everyone around him.

Then with a few hugs and thank yous to a few guests, and posing for a picture or two he headed back to his office to drink something a little stronger than coffee. The need for a shot or two becoming three or four as the days and nights had grown longer, and the Michelin Stars he had been just been awarded had been wonderful, but had brought in a larger and more demanding crowd. Nothing that he couldn't take care of, certainly, but the extra publicity and stress had crippled his staff. 

With a huff he clicked over to his favorite cooking channel stream while he wrapped up some paperwork. It was more for background noise than anything. He was about halfway through ordering ingredients for next week's menu when he heard him. It must have been the familiar sounding southern drawl that made him look up and take notice of the dark haired man in glasses. The blue eyes looked almost unnatural.

"The decor and staff at  _Jasper's Grill_ was laughable _,_ " the man said smoothly, "Nothing worth the drive I took. Way too much seasoning and the only red meat option they had came to me lukewarm."

The man on the monitor scrunched up his nose at this crime, and then cleared his throat before he continued. 

"So, in my opinion, it would be best for you to not give them the time of day until they get their act together. Terrible all around,  _Jasper's Grill_. I vote to sink it."

Rhett narrowed his eyes as he watched the man pick up a mug with the words  _Sink It_  written out in fancy gold lettering and take a small sip. 

"Didn't know you watched  _A Meal with Link Neal_ ," came a voice from behind him, and for the second time of the night Rhett jumped at Chase's surprise arrival.

"Sorry," Chase chuckled as Rhett rubbed at the place on his knee that he smacked against the desk. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," Rhett replied as he pointed back at the monitor. "Now what did you call this?"

"It's called  _A Meal with Link Neal_ ," Chase repeated. "He's a food critic. Show's been on now for about a year or so. Really super picky and critical. Rarely ever gives good reviews of places."

Rhett hummed as he thought, and in a couple of quick mouse clicks Link Neal was off of his computer monitor. There was a smug quality to the guy that rubbed Rhett the wrong way, even if he wasn't a food critic with a very judgmental palate.

"Seems like a jerk," Rhett concluded. "I've been to Jasper's lots of times. They are good folk and their food is really good. Bet his critical votes are just for views."

Chase shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't think so, boss. You should watch some of his other episodes. I think that's really how he is, and honestly the viewers do listen to a lot of what he says. That episode was first aired back a few months ago, and Jasper's has been struggling ever since. He can make or break restaurants. Good chance he'll be heading this way finally. Loves challenging up and coming places, and you just got your stars."

Rhett glanced back over to his paperwork with a sudden sour feeling in his stomach. He wasn't ever one to back down from a challenge. If this Link Neal wanted to sit down to dine, he would welcome the chance to wipe that smug look right off of his face. 


	2. Never read viewer emails. Ever.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments!

Link was already grumpy before he even looked at his emails. It was an occupational hazard with being a food critic. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy his career. He did. Well, at least certain aspects of it.

The feeling that came from finding a hidden gem of a restaurant in the sea of the usual fare was almost orgasmic. There had been a couple of places in the past six months that had been particularly astounding. A little eatery on the east side who made a wine infused pork chop that made him sigh like a porn star. Then a new upscale pavilion that served him an incredible butternut squash soup that had him asking for a second and third cup.

Sadly, there had been the highlights. The rest of the places he had sat down to critique had been middle of the road to downright horrible. His stomach was still angry about the roasted duck he had been insulted with last night. Part of him was convinced that that chef had poisoned him. The way the servers had flared as they passed by him wasn't helpful in stopping his suspicions. 

With slow moving fingers he began to click through his emails and as usual, the responses from his latest restaurant assault were patiently waiting. They would range from delighted at his viewpoints to close to death threats. Many of the words placed in all caps to make sure that he understood just how angry the emailer was.

_What the hell gives you the right to say that Georgie's Pub serves out of date fish and chips? Are you fucking there when they place their orders? Your bullshit review cost them tons of customers!_

Link leaned back in his chair and looked around for his phone. Perhaps today would be better and he would find something worthwhile to eat in this overcrowded city. Maybe that little eatery he loved would be opened early.

His phone rang loudly enough to pull him out of his thoughts and picking it up he groaned at the caller ID. Flashing was the cheesy grin of the last person he wanted to hear from.

"Jordan, can this at wait until I finish reading my hate mail? I still have a little bit of my self esteem that needs to be destroyed by the end of the day."

There was a slightly high pitched laugh on the other end of the phone as Link's executive producer tapped his pen absentmindedly on his desk.

"Self esteem is overrated, but if you need a pick me up then look at the numbers," Jordan said, still chuckling. "You're killing it right now. At least two more advertisers are chomping to get you. Pun absolutely intended."

For the next ten minutes Link barely was able to stop his eyes from rolling as Jordan went over the ratings and Link's updated schedule. It seemed like centuries since Link had an actual day off.

“So if you can get over to The Italian Villa by tomorrow afternoon for a meal and then we get everything wrapped up with filming the Los Angeles til Dawn and Let Them Eat Cupcakes episodes before the end of the weekend. What do you think?”

Link pinched the bridge of his nose before he answered. His eyeglasses had already be removed ten minutes ago.

“Did it honestly matter what I think?”

Jordan hummed in a thoughtful way.

“You know, not really so valid point made. I’ll send you over the next lambs to the food critique slaughter to your inbox by this afternoon. In the meantime, try to get some rest. Talk to you later!”

With the sound of the disconnection beep loudly in his ear Link placed his head on his desk. For a moment he appreciated the cool feeling on his forehead and chin. Maybe he could just spend the rest of his life like this forever.

The headlines would be fascinating: _LA food critic found dead at his work desk. Foul play has not been ruled out. Restaurants he slammed on his hit show all prime suspects_.

He laughed at the idea of a line up of all of the chefs who had came towards him from the back. Some brandished large sharp weapons at him as they demanded to know why he had the food served to him sent back to the kitchen. It was no wonder that Jordan had suggested that a food tester might want to be hired to check for poison in the meals from now on.

The familiar notification pop noise sounded, and instinctively Link lifted his head up to see what it was. A email with the subject line marked urgent was there with a new list of restaurants and eateries for Link to search out and destroy.

1\. Yo Mama’s Rib Shack (Bradbury)  
2\. Pie in the Sky (La Verne)  
3\. Jenny’s Old Time Eatery (Gardena)  
4\. A Taste of Southern Charm (Santa Monica)  
5\. Pocket of Paris (Norwalk)

None of the places rang a bell at all except for number four. Link recalled a quick blurb about them on the local radio. Something about the owner being originally from North Carolina, and that made him take more notice. It wasn’t usual to hear of someone else from him own home state this far west, and southern cooking might be just the thing his heart needed right now.

 

Maybe he’ll head there first.

 


	3. Olive hatred forever!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with the story. Kudos and comments help motivate me more than you know! <3

At least the front of the building looked promising. There was a sturdy quality to the structure that assured Link that at least if the food was crappy, the building wouldn't fall down on top of him. The color choices, however, were a different matter. The base was a smooth and muted green with splashes of red in just the right spots. The decisions struck Link vividly of olives, and he  _hated_ olives.

He made a quick move towards the door, hoping that his being a few minutes late wouldn't make for an awkward situation. A Taste of Southern Charm was known for it's very long waiting list to get a seat, and that was before the new stars that had just been presented to Rhett McLaughlin, the owner and chef. A slender woman with dark brown hair and round eyeglasses greeted Link with a pleasant enough smile at the front counter.

"Hilt for 4:45pm," Link said as he leaned in.

The young lady glanced down an impressive list to the name Link had given, and then guestured for him to follow her down to a small booth to the right. It had been decided that Link use a different name when reveiwing a restaurant. Just to not completely announce that he was there. Within a few moments Link was already making some notes regarding the decor of the place. Words like  _relaxing_ and  _inviting_ were clearly on the top of his thoughts.

A pretty blonde woman smiled as she headed over to him. In her right hand she carried a glass of water, and after placing it carefully on the table, she then handed him a menu. The choices for food were more than a pleasant surprise. Link even caught himself smiling at the variety of southern spins on west coast dishes.

"Hi. I'm Diana. Were you ready to order, or would you like some additional time? Or recommendations?"

Link gave a small nod and smile to the Diana. Recommendations might be the best way to deal with this place.

"What would you suggest?"

After mentioning a few fish and chicken dishes, Link decided on the chicken and waffles. A staple of how Southern this restaurant could be. As Diana left to put in his order, Link took the time to look over some emails on his phone, and take a picture or two. More for helping him with descriptions later for his review.

Inside the kitchen there was a whirl of activity. Stevie took a moment to move away from her station to wipe some sweat from her brow and then rewash her hands. Rhett was everywhere else, as always. Moving from place to place giving orders and checking if anyone needed help.

"Rhett, we got that food critic at table 19," he heard Diana call out. "Wants the chicken and waffles."

He gave Diana a quick thumbs up, and the turned to Stevie, who already knew what Rhett was going to say.

"No problem," she laughed. "You was to make sure that you handle his order, right?"

"Just to make sure that if he is as hard geared as he seems that it's directly my cooking he's complaining about."

It made sense for Rhett to do this in his mind. Let his staff not have to deal with a fussy critic who probably wouldn't know good food even if it fell down from the clouds. He had seen enough of Link Neal's show to know that the man was incredibly hard to please. The amount of pickiness floored Rhett as to how in the world the bespectacled man could be respected at all. Link seemed to hate everything. Tomatoes, olives, cucumbers...plus so many more staples of usually culinary plates. 

Rhett shook his head, trying to figure out how to make the meal the best that this guy could have ever eaten. His green eyes were laser focused and mouth nothing but a thin line of concentration, Even Stevie and the others gave Rhett a large amount of room as he worked his magic. The chicken cooked to perfection and the waffles light and fluffy in only the way that a Michelin star chef could do it. 

"Wow, Rhett...amazing work," Stevie sighed, watching the large hands wipe off a sparkling white plate and placing the usual drizzles of fresh made syrup around the food. 

Rhett gave a small smile at his head chef, then adjusting his chef coat to make sure that he was ready  in case Mr. Neal had an issue with him looking as perfect as possible, he picked up the plate and headed towards the dining room area to schmooze as if his career depended on it.

Then again, it sort of did. 


End file.
